The waiters here were friendly & attentive (when they weren't ogling the blonde, curvy customer who wanted her coffee "really strong & hot"), but the owner, slumped beside me for a two minute break, was seriously down-hearted. "I'll only get a rest when I'm six feet under," he sighed, bemoaning the lack of a business partner (his former partner split in the nineties) and the relentless burden of labor and responsibility. The place was quiet. Young people don't come to diners much any more, he said, but when they get into their fifties, and don't find any around, they'll be sorry. He could come up with a couple of old-school diners in that part of Hell's Kitchen, but most of them, he said, were gone. City Light has been around since the 1940s, he told me, and he's been there for over thirty years. He asked not to be put in a photograph - "I'd ruin any picture" - and got up slowly to work the counter again. I felt a little depressed myself.
City Light is at 52nd and Tenth. Despite the doom & gloom, I'd go back.
1 comment:
Great writing here! I need to check this place out!
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